


Renaissance

by Nebula_Angel



Series: Twilight Rewrite [1]
Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Gen, Multi, No romantic relationships yet, basically the Bella Swan I wanted, later on but still relevant, outgoing Bella Swan, takes no shit Bella Swan, vampire typical violence, will be tagged when they become relevant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-03-15 07:17:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3438398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebula_Angel/pseuds/Nebula_Angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twilight with a few different twists to it throughout the four different books. Basically, I have decided to rewrite Twilight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Forks

**Author's Note:**

> I was going over headcanons for the Twilight series with a couple of friends when I decided just to rewrite the entire series based on a few of my favorites. It's still a work in progress right now, though I have all of the rough outlines planned out.

I suppose if you needed to be technical, the town of Forks, Washington was my hometown. I always told everyone Phoenix, because I'd grown up there, but the first six months of my life had been spent in the small, rainy town that existed, just barely, a few hours outside of Seattle.

Of course, I'd spent as much time away from Forks as possible. The town itself lacked a sufficient amount of people, things to do, and sunshine. The nearest mall was almost an hour away in Port Angeles, and I knew from experience that my personal library was better than the local Forks Public Library. I needed people to feel good, needed them to really have the energy to get through the day. I loved talking to people, meeting new people, and making new friends. Phoenix was the ideal place for extroverted Bella Swan, who loved to make friends. Forks was a death sentence. There weren't even 400 students in the entire school, which made for slim possibilities, unless I chose to go fishing with Charlie and make friends at La Push, the local Quileute Reservation.

It didn't make sense for me to return to Forks full time now, when I was nearly 17, and would be going to college soon. But my mother was miserable having to stay home with me when she could be traveling with her husband, Phil. So, I was going back to Forks and my dad, Charlie, and the school with 358 students if you included me, so that Renee, my mother, could be free to be with Phil as much as she wanted.

I knew she was aware of what I was doing. Mom was flighty sometimes, but certainly not stupid. So, on the way to airport, with her and Phil in the front seat, and me in the back, mom said, "You don't have to do this, Bella," for what seemed to be the thousandth time. I shook my head at her in reply. Yes, I did have to do this, or I'd never forgive myself. I'd miss my friends here, certainly, and mom most of all, but I was a little excited too, though I'd never admit that to anyone.

I'd missed Charlie, too, since I only saw him for two weeks every summer. We vacationed in California, near where my Grandma Marie had lived until she died, but that was it. Charlie and I got along pretty well, for people who only saw each other two weeks out of a possible 52. The last time I'd seen him, he'd even managed to get me into baseball a little bit, which surprised me. Now it'd probably come in handy, if I was going to be home most nights. 

It was just under three hours after boarding my plane in Phoenix that I arrived in Seattle. A smaller plane carried me from there to Port Angeles in just under 45 minutes, where Charlie waited to drive me the hour back to Forks. He was in his cruiser, of course. I don't think Charlie's ever owned another vehicle since he was hired on at Forks PD, and certainly not since he was elected as Chief.

 

The car ride was mostly silent, as Charlie never spoke unless he felt it was important or necessary to say something. He yelled a lot during games, but otherwise let others do most of the talking. Halfway to Forks, he surprised me with an admission. "There's a gift for you at the house. A truck. It's not new, but it's sturdy."

I was warmed by the gesture. Renee hadn't wanted me driving around Phoenix, citing that teenagers were fairly careless drivers sometimes, and there were too many others on the road. I had my license in case I needed to use her fairly new Acura, but otherwise it was useless. "Thanks, Dad," I said, genuinely pleased. I never called him Charlie to his face, just like I never called Renee by anything other than Mom.

The rest of the ride was silent, Charlie was focused on driving safely, and I was admiring the scenery. I hadn't quite expected it to be so beautiful, really. I was used to hues of orange and brown and red, with spikes of blue, purple, and pink in the sky. Here, everything was dominated by greens, with some browns and blue-grays seeping through. The air that filtered down through the trees even looked rather green.

When we pulled up to the house, I was struck by how little it had changed. It was still the same Victorian I'd spent every summer in for 14 years. The wood was still the same green-gray, though the paint was peeling more than it was the last time I'd been here. The wood of the steps was in pretty decent shape, but then I remembered that Charlie was quite the handyman. Of course he'd prefer to take care of the place, rather than let it fall into shambles.

And then, I saw it. The truck, my truck. It was so beautiful, a red color that spoke of the time it'd come from. It was probably from the early 1960s, the cab of the truck more rounded than trucks I'd seen today. "I love it," I blurted, running over to brush my hands along the bed of the truck. "He needs a name," I decided randomly, turning around to face Charlie with a huge grin on my face. "What do you think of Bartholomew?" I liked it, personally. It was slightly outdated, but the name spoke of strength and power, just like my truck. My truck. I grinned every time I thought about how I had Bartholomew and he was All Mine.

Charlie was hefting my bags out of his cruiser, and I rushed over to help. I didn't want Charlie to fall or anything. I knew he loved his work, and frankly, a despondent Charlie because of medical leave was scary. Because he wouldn't be able to fish or hunt with with friends in La Push, he'd be worse. When we finally managed to get the three suitcases to my room, I was in awe.

Though the walls were the same baby blue as they'd been when I was growing up, I was surprised and touched at the work Charlie had put into making my room look like Arizona. The ceiling had been painted blue too, but just around the overhead light fixture a ring of orange had been painted. It was my own personal sun, in my own personal desert, I realized. Charlie had even switched the floors for a lighter wood closely resembling the sand of Arizona, and then I realized all of the accents were in darker reds and oranges. Pictures of the bluffs I'd spent hiking with Renee littered the walls, and a few tiny cacti sat sporadically on the more generic furniture in the room. A longer look at the walls revealed purple mountains and other desert landscaping were painted within the blue. Charlie nodded to the mountains along the wall. “That was Mrs. Cullen’s idea, after she found out you loved the desert. She painted it herself.” 

Upon closer inspection, I saw that Charlie had even sprung for a new desk and bookshelves, though the dresser and the rocker had stayed the same. Even the bedspread was now a nice orange color, with small streaks of brown and purple running through. I teared up, moved by the gesture. "Dad," I choked out, "I absolutely love this. Thank you so, so much." This room would make the transition much easier, undoubtedly.

Charlie shrugged, looking around. "Well, when I was picking out new bedclothes, I ran into Dr. Cullen's wife. She asked after you, and when I told her you were moving up from Arizona, she suggested a few things. I kind of went overboard though. Dark floorboards didn't match the desert, I thought, so I stopped by the hardware store and asked if they had any suggestions."

I grinned, a few tears spilling over in my exuberance. "It's absolutely perfect! And I love the desk too," I turned to better admire it, and then I saw what was probably the most frivolous change in the entire bedroom. On the desk sat a brand new laptop, still in the protective plastic that it came wrapped in. I turned to Charlie in question, since Renee had only allowed the one computer in a room she locked after she went to bed after watching too many sensationalized news stories about the internet. 

He shrugged again. "I thought you'd like a faster way to stay in touch with all of your friends back in Phoenix, and that old monster wasn't doing you any favors, Bells. So I got the newest model, and the internet guys will be out next week to update our connection to the next quickest speed."

Charlie seemed to have reached the limits of his socialization for the moment, and he left me in peace to unpack my things. Renee had shipped most of my stuff here ahead of time, and Charlie, although he meant well, had put everything away rather haphazardly. It took me nearly two hours just to redo his work and then put away everything I’d had in my suitcase. I didn’t have time to do more than glance at my books, thankfully, because they were probably a disaster, before Charlie called me down for dinner. 

I was surprised to see he had actually cooked something, instead of ordering pizza. From what I remembered, Charlie had never been overly enthusiastic in the kitchen aside from mastering the basics. He grinned at me, and nodded at the small table. “I thought it’d be nice to get some steak for your first meal back in Forks.” 

I smiled back, sitting down at the place against the wall. “It looks, great, dad!” It was so different from the false enthusiasm that I’d always reserved for dinner with Renee and her culinary experiments. Maybe that was why Charlie had learned to cook; he had tired of Renee’s inedible attempts at dinner. 

Dinner was mostly silent as Charlie and I ate. It was really delicious, and Charlie had even made some baked beans and mashed potatoes. There were rolls, too, that tasted home made. When I asked, Charlie smiled around the beer he’d raised to his mouth. “Mrs. Cullen sent those over, said it was her grandmother’s recipe and she’d always loved them.” 

I was already interested in Mrs. Cullen, who sounded like Forks’ Citizen of the Year, at least in my book. I wondered if her husband was as amazing as his wife seemed. I decided to ask Charlie. “What about the rest of the Cullens? What are they like?”

Charlie paused where he was dragging a roll through the juices left behind by his steak. “Well, Dr. Cullen works over at the hospital. He’s the best damn thing that happened to this town, that man. He could be getting big money at just about any big hospital there. The whole county is damn lucky that Mrs. Cullen wanted to give their kids a small town environment.”

That last phrase piqued my interest, and I put my own fork down to ask, “They have kids?” I knew it was a long shot, given that they probably had kids barely out of elementary school, let alone my age. 

Charlie nodded, and said, “Yeah, but they’re all adopted.” He got up to grab something from the table by the door. I ate a bit more until he came back with a photograph. “Mrs. Cullen gave me this a few weeks ago, to thank me for catching a few young hoodlums for trespassing on their property. These are their kids, Rosalie and Jasper Hale, Dr. Cullen’s niece and nephew. He adopted them when his sister and brother-in-law died,” he said, pointing out the two blonde children, who frankly looked more like models than teeangers, their features were so refined and elegant.   
“They’re seniors this year, along with Emmett Cullen, who was adopted from Tennessee when his parents lost custody for running a bear circus ,” he told me, pointing out a boy with darker hair, and wide features, who clearly belonged on an Olympic wrestling team, not high school. “And then Alice and Edward Cullen, who have been with Esme and Carlisle, that’s Dr. and Mrs. Cullen, since they were 8. They’re twins too, and actually related to Mrs. Cullen. They got taken in when their parents died, and no other family could be found.” These two looked the least alike. The girl, Alice, was small in a rather extreme manner, with hair that was barely down to her chin. Edward, the boy, was tall, though not as tall as the other boys, and looked the most like a high school junior. His face was nice, I supposed, for all that it had no real definition, but it was his copper colored hair that truly stood out the most.  
I noted the pair that were clearly the parents in the photo. They were as beautiful as their children, with Dr. Cullen as blonde as his niece and nephew, with features that wouldn’t have been out of place on a statue by Michelangelo. Mrs. Cullen had lovely caramel colored hair, and a warm, heart shaped face that emanated the love she felt for her family. I wanted to know who to thank when I ran into them inevitably. 

Charlie took the picture back out to the hall, and came back in, saying, “They’re all really good kids. We were a bit nervous, of course, given that they’d all been in the system for at least a few months before the adoption was finalized. But we haven’t even had to give them a warning, let alone a parking ticket. They’re all really close, too. Dr. and Mrs. Cullen take all of them out camping every time there’s a sunny day or two.”

I was astonished by the revelation, frankly, since most teenagers didn’t have the kind of grades to skip more than two days a year, let alone every sunny one that came by Forks. But I didn’t comment on that, since Charlie would know if there was a truancy issue. We finished our dinner in silence, and I offered to do the dishes, since Charlie had cooked. He went in to catch a basketball game, which I had less patience for, and I occupied myself with the thoughts of my first day at Forks Regional High School. I’d leave early enough to stop by the front office to pick up my schedule. Then, I’d hopefully make friends with a few locals so I wouldn’t be alone on my first day. If worst came to worst, I’d just assault the Cullens and Hales under the assumption that they were friendly with Charlie. It was a good enough plan, I thought, finishing the last dish, silently thanking Charlie for setting his skillet to soak before we’d eaten. 

I went into the living room to catch the tail end of the game, which was apparently between Duke and North Carolina. “They’re heated rivals,” Charlie assured me as the last five minutes got more and more intense, to the point I was actually kind of enjoying it. Five minutes somehow took nearly a half-hour, and by that time, I was ready for bed. I bid Charlie a goodnight before climbing the stairs to my bedroom. I pulled on shorts and a tshirt, my usual pajamas, and crawled under the blankets, falling asleep in the probably abnormal quiet.


	2. Of Masculine Posturing and Cute Classmates

I woke up around midnight, irritated by the repetitive noises against my window. I sat up in my bed, reaching for the lamp on my side table to get a visual. I figured if someone was breaking in, the sudden light might scare them off. All of my worry was wasted however, when I saw, in the dim lighting, that the noise was a tree branch scraping against the window in the sudden rain that had started. I sighed in relief, but soon was annoyed about the rain, wind, and weak thunder. Storms in Arizona were rare but welcome, with vibrant thunder and vivid lightning to accompany the rain that brought refreshing life back to the desert. I wasn’t quite sure what the weather was doing outside, but by my book, it was less of a storm and more of a rain shower with distant thunder mixed in. I missed the thunder that settled in my heart, flowing through my veins like blood with the thrum of its bass drum soundtrack. 

I looked around my room, thinking about how to drown out the annoying noises without preventing myself from waking up in enough time to leave early. I could only think of turning on some music, but I only had headphones, and my phone itself only played clips of songs, since Renee didn’t believe in smartphones. She said they lead to kidnappings and breast cancer, and so we both only had the basics of phones that could call and text. Finally, after digging around in the desk quietly, I managed to find an old speaker from the old desktop that had once dominated an entire corner of the room itself. I plugged it into my portable cd player, silently cursing Renee’s refusal to accept technology as a way of life, and rifled through my selection of cds for something soothing. I selected classical music, opting for Debussy, since his works were light and calming. I’d often used the cd itself to help me focus on studying, so I knew if I focused enough on the music, I’d be able to make myself fall asleep. 

I didn’t remember anything after laying back under my blanket, light back off, and Debussy playing softly until my alarm started blaring at five thirty in the morning. I groaned and shut it off with a more forceful than necessary slap, but sat up immediately, knowing I’d fall back asleep if I didn’t. I turned on my overhead light, squinting at the onslaught of brightness, and turned to my closet. 

I needed to dress to suit myself, but still wanted to look approachable and friendly. I didn’t want to try too hard, though. If any of the other students thought I was a suck up, the next year and a half of my life would be hell. It went the same the other way, though; if my teachers thought I was a city snob, or a slacker, based on my first outfit they’d see, I’d never get the appropriate recommendation letters from them. I’d learned in my first seventeen years that first impressions could make or break a person, mostly from teachers Renee had reported or disgraced because they were teaching wrong, or, for one memorable teacher, used me to try to sleep with Renee. 

Finally, after a quick decision, and a less quick shower, I dressed in a pair of tight jeans, and a flannel shirt I’d purchased just for Forks, with a camisole underneath just in case. I’d found it at an hiking store in Arizona. It was thick and warm, meant for hiking and camping in the desert, but I’d figured those qualities would do me just as much service in rainy, cold Washington state. I’d also found a pair of fairly nice hiking boots at a garage sale in my old neighborhood in Phoenix, worn for roughly five hikes by the original owner. I pulled my socks on, and then the boots, before I grabbed my fairly empty backpack to go downstairs for breakfast. 

Charlie was already eating breakfast, which happened to be eggs, toast, and bacon, which he’d already plated for me. A glass of orange juice was there too, and while the plating he’d done wouldn’t win him Chopped, I was still touched that he’d had everything ready. I was used to having a cereal bar on my way to school, or eating a bagel from the school’s breakfast bar. We ate in silence, with Charlie reading the morning paper with his coffee, and me eating my breakfast and trying not to shake with my nerves. 

Finally, I stood up to rinse my plate, focusing on my actions while I repeated my plan inside my head. I’d drive to the school, I’d find the front office, I’d get my schedule, I’d park in the student parking lot, I’d find my first class, and I’d go from there. Hopefully I wouldn’t be forced to introduce myself publically, and would be able to rely on one on one conversation to get myself through the day. When the plate was rinsed, I sat it aside to be washed later today, and turned to get my jacket and bag. When I’d done that, fished my keys out of the bowl of keys by the door - and I didn’t honestly know why Charlie needed so many keys - and gone outside, Charlie had come out to the porch, dressed and ready. 

He reached over and pulled me into a hug, and said, “Good luck today, Bells,” as he pulled away to walk towards his cruiser. 

“Thanks,” I said, walking towards Bartholomew, and managing not to slip on any errant ice. A lifetime of warm desert weather, and being here only in the summer, had left me with no winter survival skills. It was January, and I was assured by Renee that the ice and cold only got worse in February, so I hoped I could get the hang of walking on ice before then. I noted with a sense of disappointment that even the air after a storm smelled different. The scent of mud hung in the air, and the familiar, refreshing smell of creosote bush was notably absent. 

The drive to school was short, as I’d suspected it would be, but navigating the sprawl of brick buildings proved more difficult than locating the school. I drove cautiously, peering through the windshield at the building which all looked _exactly the same_ and didn’t appear to have _any way of identifying them_. In my frustration, I almost didn’t see the only other person crossing the parking lot until it was nearly too late, but luckily, whoever had kept the car working had taken wonderful care of the brakes. When I slammed the brake pedal, the truck stopped right away. I recognized the caramel hair from the photo Charlie had shown me last night, and immediately felt awful. Mrs. Cullen had worked very hard to make my room feel like home, and I’d nearly run her over. 

To make everything worse, her heart shaped face was filled with concern for me. When she hurried over to the driver’s side window, I rolled it down. “I am so sorry,” I said, eyes wide at how beautiful she was. The entire family was gorgeous of course, but the photograph did little justice to how amazing she looked, even standing outside in the cold drizzle. 

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” she said, her smooth alto voice soothing over my worries, “you didn’t hit me. You seemed distracted, what are you looking for?” she asked, leading back to my original worry.  
“I’m trying to find the front office to get my schedule and paper work for the day,” I told her, “but all of the buildings look the same to me.” I didn’t mention how I was running out of time to get to my first class in time to find a friendly person to sit with. Then, belatedly, I remembered the manners my mother the kindergarten teacher had instilled in me when I was young. While most children had politeness week, my mother had instilled Politeness Month, where she’d spent an entire month instilling manners in me. “I wanted to thank you, Mrs. Cullen, for the room. It’s amazing, I absolutely love it, it’s like I get to have a piece of Arizona with me all the time.”

She smiled at me, and dammit if it didn’t make her even more beautiful. “It was absolutely no trouble at all, Bella,” she said, and Charlie must have told her that I never went by Isabella except at ceremonies. “I was more than happy to help, and I still am. The office building is just there,” she pointed at the building with a fairly faded “1” on the side facing me. 

“Thank you so much,” I told her again, somehow managing to suppress the urge to swear my allegiance to her well being. Mrs. Cullen nodded again, walking off in the direction of her car, which, upon closer inspection, I realized was a dark blue Mercedes. I stopped to drool for a few seconds before putting the truck back in drive and heading for the office. 

Inside was relatively warm, though I was distracted by the sheer amount of clutter in the room. It was by no means a small office, but the organization made it seem tiny. The back walls behind the huge, L-shaped desk were filled with papers and mailboxes for the staff, as well as books and packages. The desk itself had papers stacked precariously high on just about every available surface that could be found. In a disturbing effort to bring yet more greenery into the scene, several potted ferns and one hilariously uncared for plastic ficus littered the tables and floor of the room, and several odd plants I couldn’t name hung from the ceiling. I winced, wanting nothing more than to reorganize everything in this room to be more efficient. The plethora of plants bothered me more than anything else in the room. It was too green, and while I didn’t mind the natural hues of green outside, the man-made plants were a gross, fake green, like they’d been melted into a mold from a Rose-Art crayon. 

The woman behind the desk never looked up from her computer, where I hoped she was working and not playing solitaire. She looked to be early middle-aged, with bottle-dyed orange hair and bright yellow eyeshadow on her lids. I tried not to judge, thinking that perhaps she merely wanted to bring a bit more color to Forks. 

“Excuse me,” I said firmly, when it became clear she wasn’t going to notice my mere presence just because I was standing there. If it were a horror movie, she’d be dead four times over by now. 

She jumped, obviously very startled that anyone else was there, and her elbow, encased in a yellow the same shade as her makeup, knocked into a stack of papers, which were caught with a well-practiced hand just as soon as she realized she’d hit them. 

“Sorry!” I shouted, disregarding societal rules about being inside. I rushed forward to help her balance the papers again, hoping that it wouldn’t teeter off and scatter papers everywhere. God this day was going to go downhill so quickly, I could tell. 

“It’s alright,” she said kindly, smiling up at me with soft green eyes. Unfortunate makeup choices aside, she was fairly pretty, with a kind warmth to her face, and I found myself smiling back in return. 

“I’m Bella Swan today is my first day and my Dad said I’d need to come here to pick up my schedule and some paperwork,” I told her in one breathless sentence. 

She nodded in recognition at the name, pulling a slim folder from an unseen cubby hole in the desk. It was, quite possibly the one thing in the room that was easily accessible, but I was grateful for that; as long as this exchange went quickly, the rest of my plan would go unhindered. 

“I’m Madge, by the way, the secretary for the school,” she said first, introducing herself in return. She pulled out one slim sheet of paper from the folder and handed it to me. “That one is your schedule. We’ve given you a fairly advanced schedule, since your transcripts from Phoenix indicated that you haven’t done the basic College Prep classes since the eighth grade.” I nodded in thanks as I took the schedule, glad to see Advanced Bio, AP English Lit, AP Government, and Trigonometry all there, as well as AP Anatomy for this semester. 

Another sheet of paper was pulled out, and Madge said, “This is a map of the school, Bella, and it’s fairly easy to navigate the place when you know where to go, but for now you’ll have this.” She highlighted a few simple routes, all in different colors to show the quickest routes from class to class. “The student parking lot is just behind this building if you drive down this road here,” she said, highlighting a small alley-path-thing on the map in bright green. 

“Thank you so much,” I said, genuinely happy that she was so helpful. Madge smiled and offered one more piece of wisdom as I turned to part. 

“Just remember to let them come to you for the most part, Bella. Don’t attract too much attention to yourself too soon.”

I nodded again, mulling over what she’d said as I walked quickly back to my truck. Madge seemed to think I was better off letting them offer friendship to me, but I wasn’t so sure. For all the summers I’d spent here, I’d mostly been down at the La Push Quileute Reservation with Charlie, so I didn’t know anyone from Forks that were my age. As a compromise Madge didn’t know about, I decided I would let first period AP English Lit slide by before approaching anyone in second period AP Government. 

Thanks to Madge’s map, highlighted in wonderfully helpful, color coded paths, I found both the parking lot and my first class with relative quickness and ease. Mr. Carter, the teacher for that class, was there writing on the board when I showed up, but I noticed with relief that there were already students there, looking bored and working on homework for other classes. I walked into the room, trying not to attract any attention from the present students. 

Mr. Carter turned around quickly, eyes wild with over-caffeination. I jumped back a bit, hitting my hip on the corner of his desk. I managed, just barely, to hold back the _fuck_ that danced on my lips, remembering at the last minute that teachers frowned upon that sort of language from their students. “I’m Bella Swan,” I told him instead, fishing out the paper that each of my teachers needed to sign, and which I would return to Madge at 2:48 pm, when the final bell for that day’s classes would ring. 

He signed it with a flourish that made me roll my eyes a bit. Here was a man who felt he was more important than he really was. I was sure the syllabus would be filled with papers about why the main character was important, or why the side characters had brought about the protagonist’s downfall through no fault of his own. He pointed me to a seat beside, wonder of wonders, Alice Cullen, who was already smiling at me.

I decided, then and there, not to mention anything about seeing Mrs. Cullen in the parking lot. Alice didn’t need to know I was about 20 seconds from worshipping her mother, or that I was weirdly offended and amused by their beauty. I smiled back as I sat down, and I wasn’t going to say anything first, either. If her mother knew me, I was sure all of the Cullens knew who I was. 

“Hi,” she said, in a light, quick voice, “I’m Alice Cullen. Do you have a copy of the reading list for this semester?” she asked in that same fast pace. 

I nodded, because it was true, and pulled it out of the folder. I’d never given it more than a cursory glance in the main office, but now that I had a chance to study it further, I was dismayed to find that I’d already covered each of the books on the list back at my old high school. I grimaced at Alice when I gave a quick look at the syllabus Mr. Carter had just placed on my folder. “Thought so,” I muttered under my breath when I saw the prompt for the current book, _Wuthering Heights_.

“What was that?” Alice asked me, leaning forward as if she hadn’t heard me. 

“Oh, I was just saying that I’d thought the prompts would feature such gems as ‘Please explain why Heathcliffe is a _true romantic_ , and his downfall was the fault of Catherine’s _refusal_ to love him’. _Ugh_ ,” I groaned. I wasn’t looking forward to writing that paper at all, given the fact that my last paper on the book had painted Heathcliffe as a selfish, bigoted, manipulative abuser. 

A pale finger slid into my line of sight, pointing to a smaller phrase. “You can do your own essay, but he’s harder on those ones. He thinks that if you’re going to branch out, you’ve got to do better. My sister Rosalie had him last year, and he hated her. The feeling was mutual, of course,” she added with a sly grin, “as Rosalie hated his tendency to side with whatever main character was male. Look at the one for _Hamlet_ , which will be covered in May,” she told me.

I flipped the page as she had asked, then nearly had a stroke at what I saw. “‘Ophelia lead Hamlet on, and was the cause of all the events after the King’s death; discuss,’” I read off in a furious whisper, already plotting my revenge for that essay. I’d written one last year in Phoenix, discussing whether or not Shakespeare was misogynistic in his treatment of his female characters. I planned on vamping it up a bit, now, and adding a few parts to specifically address the plotline of _Hamlet_. 

“Rosalie nearly took his head off, and I’m pretty sure Esme framed the essay she wrote,” Alice told me. “She discussed how everything that happened was the fault of Hamlet himself, first for being abroad when his father died, and then letting himself be lead on by hallucinations brought on from grief,” she added at my confused look. 

“Your sister may just be my new hero,” I said quietly. There wasn’t much more time for conversation, since the warning bell had just rung. Other students filed in, staring openly at me, and making me uncomfortable with their blatant whispers. 

Class went by in a blur of masculine posturing for a fictional character I loathed, which went uninterrupted by a room of half asleep teenagers, and only Alice’s tiny scoffs at the most ridiculous statements Mr. Carter made broke his monologues.

When the bell rang, I gathered my things to leave for Trig, which I was religiously unenthusiastic about, when Alice poked my arm. “Where are you headed,” she asked lightly, placing herself in between me and a boy with greasy black hair and a thin, even greasier mustache. 

“Trig in building,” I checked the schedule quickly, and the map too, “3,” I said with a slight groan. 

Alice deftly pulled the schedule out of my hands, and glanced over it, humming in satisfaction. “We have all the same classes, _except_ ,” she said with a hint of dissatisfaction in her voice, “Spanish and Biology. I take French that period, and I have Chemistry when you have Biology. My brother Edward should be in Biology with you, though, and you’ll like Mr. Banner a lot more. He’s actually trying to teach you.” 

I nodded in satisfaction, glad I’d know someone for most of my classes. Perhaps just by habit, Alice and I walked to Building 3 together, though only a few words passed between us. In Trig, I introduced myself and got my paper signed, though Mr. Martin did make me introduce myself to the class at large. The moment passed with minimal stammering, minor blushing, and me tripping over some douchebag’s too-expensive bookbag. As much as the introduction fiasco made me want to hate Mr. Martin, I thought I might enjoy the class simply because it was the one thing I hadn’t already covered. It passed by in a blur too, with me too involved with taking diligent notes to risk a conversation with the Alice, or even the really cute girl with wild dark curls and unseasonably tan skin on my left. 

She turned to me when the bell dismissing class rang out, however, a smile on her features. “I’m Jessica Hernandez,” she said, holding out a neatly manicured hand for me to shake. I took it and made the unnecessary introduction of myself back. “Which class do you have next?” she asked as I plucked the folder off of the table in front of me. 

“Spanish,” I told her without consulting my notes, knowing because this was the only one of two classes I’d have without Alice. “I think it said building 4, but I’ll need to double check.”

Jessica shook her head at me, and reached out to grab my free hand. “I have that class too, I’ll walk with you!” I let her half drag me to the very next building, and nodded at her attempts at conversation, until, “This must be a pretty big difference for you,” she said, gesturing up at the deep gray sky that threatened us with yet more rain. 

I half shrugged, not wanting to seem ungrateful, and said, “It’s a difference, yeah, but I don’t think it’s a terrible one. Everything here must be full of life, since there’s so much rain.” It felt like a suitably diplomatic response to her question. I wasn’t lamenting moving here or shitting on Forks, but I wasn’t professing false happiness. 

Jessica nodded, and then surprised me with her next statement. “I’m originally from Texas, so I know the feeling of adjustment you’ll be going through. All I can say is that you look like you’ve planned ahead sufficiently,” she said with a nod at my flannel. 

Spanish was interesting enough, for a basic level 3 course that would have been a level 1 back home, although I guessed it was more to do with region. Even with my relatively minimal skills with the Spanish language, I could recognize that the teacher had a frankly terrible accent. It was a typical _gringo_ action, disregarding the ways the accent itself made Spanish so beautiful. That, and I’d been speaking basic Spanish at home with Renee, who’d learned to communicate better with her ENL students. Jessica seemed bored too, and I had a feeling she was here because of state requirements, not because she needed to learn Spanish. When the period bell rang, she sighed in relief and stood up to stretch.

“I always think this class will never end,” she said swinging her coat and bag on in two smooth motions. “I’ve been saying what they’re teaching us since pre-school, I almost wish I’d taken French sometimes.”

I raised an eyebrow in her direction, doubting the blanket truth of that statement. “I took that course in seventh grade,” I told her, “and I knew basic colloquial Spanish in elementary school, since my mom tried to instill it at home.”

“What does your mom do?” Jessica asked as we navigated the crowded walkway to Building 6 for AP Government. 

“She’s a kindergarten teacher, and she had several ENL students. She thought it would be better for me to learn at least a little Spanish than to speak only English.”

“Your mom sounds like a very smart woman,” Jessica told me, her smile full of warmth. “My kindergarten teacher told me I had better learn English or we’d be back in Mexico before the week was out.”

I made a scoffing noise, half in genuine outrage, half in sympathy that she’d faced such an attitude so young. 

She looked at me and said, “My family are Honduran, actually, not Mexican, so I thought that was weird. It was especially weird considering my parents were both college professors. When we moved up here, they took a job downgrade, but dad’s good with me being in his government class, and mom loves running the school district. She’s been elected as superintendent four years running,” Jessica added with obvious pride. 

I grinned, excited. I’d taken an AP Government class back in Phoenix, but it’d contained so much posturing for a country that was quickly falling to pieces from too much war, I’d dropped it three weeks in for an ASL class. Mr. Hernandez smiled briefly at his daughter, but gave no obvious signs of recognition, and strode forward to shake my hand. 

“I saw you’d taken a class similar to this back in Phoenix just last semester, Ms. Swan,” he said, though he was obviously asking about it. 

I nodded, hair blocking my view of my curious classmates. “The teacher was incompetent and was more interested in teaching us about America being the greatest instead of the function and purpose of the government,” I told him, reciting the same thing I’d told my guidance counselor only five months before.

Mr. Hernandez nodded, as though satisfied with the answer I’d given, and held out his hand for my slip, signing it immediately. “I expect great things from you, Ms. Swan. You seem just as smart as Jessica,” he told me, and from the warm tone, it was an obvious compliment. 

I thanked him, and sat down next to a boy I didn’t know, not wanting to attach myself to any one person just yet. Government was by far the most interesting of my first four classes, lively debates springing up every five or ten minutes, and Mr. Hernandez encouraged lively discussions and any questions that might pop up. It was an endearing trait in a teacher, since most of mine had always been possessed of the “I’m right and you’re wrong so just stay quiet” personality traits. 

It was the first time all day I hadn’t wanted class to end. When the bell rang I sighed, despondent over leaving such a fun space where I was also learning. I had lunch then, which I knew I had with Alice, but Jessica came over and introduced me to Mike, the guy I’d been sitting next to in government. He’d been a bit outspoken, but not overly so, and everything he said seemed well thought-out, as though he’d carefully considered what he’d say each time. 

We all walked into the big cafeteria building, or building 7, together, chattering animatedly about an upcoming trip down to La Push to go surfing at First Beach in a couple of months. I eagerly put my name down to go, excited to be back in an area that was familiar to me. 

When we finally sat down with our lunches of wildly unauthentic burritos, I first saw Edward Cullen in person. He was staring directly at me, and he looked outraged.


	3. On Why Fake Burritos Should Be Illegal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second half of Bella's first day at Fork's High is weirder than the first half. Edward Cullen doesn't know how to be nice to strangers, and Jasper doesn't know how to be subtle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about not posting this sooner. I honestly thought I had. The good news is that chapter 4 is almost done.

     I sat down at the table, Jessica on my right, with Mike right across from me. His hair, spiked with precision, blocked Edward Cullen from my view but I could still sense him staring at me with that intense, angry look. Mike must have felt it to, because he turned around to see who was trying to glare holes in his skull. He promptly swung back around, knocking someone's tray to the ground in the process. Angela, next to him, snorted into the vegetarian lasagna she’d brought from home.    
  


     "What is Cullen's problem right now?" he asked, eyes wide and flickering between Jessica and me. He completely ignored the angry looking baseball player staring at him, instead opting to stare at me in the hopes I knew something. Angela calmly took a drink of water, ignoring the conversation about the Cullens. I got the feeling they didn’t register on her radar as much as they did for other people. 

 

      Unfortunately, I knew about as much as Mike did. I shrugged in response, ripping the stem off of the apple I’d bought. Jessica snorted, poking at the “meat” in her burrito. “I think he’s probably just outraged Bella isn’t fawning over him like every other person here does.”

 

      I snorted in a failed attempt not to laugh. “People think Edward is hot?” I asked, looking back up at him. He still looked outraged, but not as much as he looked offended. Alice was there, laughing so hard I was sure she might cry. 

 

     Mike himself looked like all his Christmases had come early, and nodded. “Yeah, and it’s because he’s the only single Cullen. You see, there’s Dr. and Mrs. Cullen married, and Alice Cullen, Edward’s twin sister, is with Jasper, the blond guy. And Emmett, the big one, him and Rosalie Hale, Jasper’s twin, are together. Edward is still single, though,” he added again for emphasis, possibly to remind me that the lone single Cullen was attractive simply because he was single. 

 

     I decided to test whether or not Edward Cullen was eavesdropping. Given the noise level, it should be impossible, but Alice had heard me mumbling to myself in English class. It wasn’t that far of a stretch to think he might have equally stellar hearing. “So,” I said after a few seconds of silence where we forced down the nearly inedible burritos, “is Edward single because the Cullens haven’t adopted any more kids?”

 

      Mike sprayed orange juice across the table at Jessica and me, snorting with his laughter. Jessica herself was laughing, even as she wiped the orange juice off of her face. I snuck a look at the Cullen’s table. Sure enough, Edward looked incensed, even if his “siblings” did look to be amused by what they’d heard. 

 

     I knew, actually, that it probably wasn’t as gross as I’d just implied. None of the Cullens who are actually related were in a relationship, and it didn’t seem unhealthy. At least, Charlie hadn’t found it unhealthy enough to mention it, but I could see how it might be weird. Even in my considerably larger high school in Phoenix, the news of adopted siblings dating one another would have caused a large stir. 

 

      I resolved not to look over at Edward again, focusing on conversation with Jessica, Mike, and a few of their friends. Lauren, a pale blonde, came off a bit standoffish at first, but it was soon revealed she had a class schedule to rival mine, and ambition to rival just about everyone. 

 

    “I’m competing for a spot in some of the most exclusive universities in the country. Harvard would be best, of course, but Yale and Stanford are the next two,” she’d said over her packed lunch. 

 

     I’d nodded, having considered those options myself, but, “I was thinking Stanford or Cal-Tech myself, depending on what program I decide to go into.” 

 

      “Oh?” This came from Mike, who was currently glancing at football scores for the upcoming championship. He tucked his phone into his hoodie’s pocket as a teacher - “lunch moderator” sorry - walked by. 

 

     “Either biology - probably focusing on marine life- , eremology - the study of deserts - , or astrophysics,” Jessica’s head was tilted, like she wasn’t quite sure what to make of the wide range of subjects. Mike’s mouth had formed an “O” shape, and Lauren was nodding like my ambition made me worthy of her respect. 

 

     Jessica took up the platform. “I’m going to Harvard,” she said, listing no second choice if she were rejected or waitlisted, “ and I’m going to be the first Latina president.” Lauren’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. I wasn’t shocked at all. I’d known Jessica for only a handful of hours and she had the nerve for it, certainly, if not the moxie. 

 

    We all turned to face Mike, who stared right at us, not speaking at all for a moment. “Um, I’m not sure what I want to do, actually. I thought maybe sports medicine, but then I wasn’t sure. Maybe teaching, but I’m not great at public speaking, you know, so maybe that’s out.”

 

    “Mike!” I said, trying to get him to stop talking. “You need to take a breath. It’s not a crime to not know what you want to do for the rest of your life.”

 

     He shrugged. “My dad knew what he wanted to do, and so did my mom. And then my dad knew what he wanted to do again, which is why we’re living here,” he added bitterly. It occurred to me, now, that Mike wasn’t exactly a local either. 

 

       Jessica and Lauren both looked down and away from Mike, as if embarrassed. I wasn’t going to ask Mike about it, given his father was obviously a sore subject, but, “Mike, that doesn’t matter. You don’t have to know right now. You don’t even need to know until sophomore year of college, at least. Ok, my mom didn’t know what she wanted to do until then and she’s doing great! She loves teaching kindergarten.”

 

    Mike studied me for a while, an uncertain look in his eyes before he nodded. “There’s just a lot of stress, you know. I’m friends with people who are going to Harvard and Stanford and Yale, and my mom thinks that means I’m going to one of those schools too. But I’m not Ivy League smart, Bella. I’m just University of Washington smart, and I think that breaks my mom’s heart a little bit.”

 

    I shook my head at him. “Mike, there’s no reason for that. I know I could be wrong, but most moms don’t care if it’s Harvard or UW you’re going to, they’re usually just proud of you for going to college. Jessica, Lauren, and I all have these great ambitions, but they’re ours, Mike. No one is making us apply to those schools or making us decide on those majors. It’s our own call on it, no one else’s.” 

 

    Mike nodded, still unsure, though he looked a little happier. Over his shoulder, Edward Cullen was staring again. I made a face at him, hoping to get him to return to his tray of untouched food. 

 

    The rest of lunch passed in silence and we all forced the so-called burritos down, hoping they wouldn’t send us rushing to the bathroom in the middle of class. Jessica and  I headed to an art class - painting - where we  shuffled in and out of the rain. The teacher had unkempt hair - dreadlocks - and smelled faintly of hemp, her pale skin standing out against her all black outfit. 

 

    Jessica’s nose was wrinkled at the smell, and I was having a hard time keeping my comments to myself. “White hair doesn’t loc, Swan,” one of my old friends in Phoenix had said when I’d mentioned, in the seventh grade, wanting to try them. I owed most of my cultural understanding to Renee and a few friends from school, though I knew I wasn’t an expert. 

 

    “Does the school not drug test,” I asked Jessica in a low voice. She shook her head, almost minutely, setting up a station and directing me where to get supplies. Before I started, I braved smelling the teacher’s stench to get my paper signed. She signed it, of course, but she also kept saying my aura was out of touch. 

 

     Art dragged by - I wasn’t terrible with painting, but I was far better at photography - and after that I was clear for biology. I was dreading it, even as Jess talked animatedly about how Mr. Banner was a great teacher who engaged everyone with the material.  I knew Jess had a lab partner for this class, and figured everyone else would too. I’d covered more of this class back in Phoenix, where I’d taken AP Bio, so it probably wouldn’t be too bad to work without a partner. 

 

   When I walked in and got Mr. Banner to sign my form, he pointed me toward a table that already had one occupant, Edward Cullen, who looked entirely disgusted by my mere presence in the room.  I seriously thought about telling the teacher that I didn’t want to sit with Edward, but figured that whatever his problem was, he could manage to deal with me an hour a day for the rest of the school year. 

 

    I was wrong. As soon as I got close to the table, Edward Cullen looked like I’d decided to swing a baseball bat at his nuts. When I sat on the stool, he slid as far away from me as he possibly could, and I was certain that I’d never been more offended. When Mr. Banner passed around the worksheets, I was pleasantly surprised to find it was a lab I had only covered in minor detail in Phoenix, but was also quite basic for an AP class. I immediately set to work, latching Slide # 1 into the microscope to identify not only what it was, but what stage of replication it was in, and doing so with the next three slides, all while Edward Cullen stared on in shock. 

 

    For the next ten minutes, I worked at identifying the remaining 8 slides, and double checking my work. When Edward cleared his throat pointedly, I shoved the tray of slides at him. “Be my guest,” I snapped, used to boys who were smart thinking girls were dumb by proxy. 

  

   He flipped each slide into the microscope in rapid succession, nodding and adding his initials to my identifications on the lab sheet. We were, finally, finished, and there was still half an hour left before I had to go to gym, something I considered my personal hell on Earth.  Edward pursed his lips and stared straight ahead, eyes black as coal when I knew for a fact that they’d been a deep golden brown when he’d stared me down at lunch. 

   

   Mr. Banner eventually came over to ask why we weren’t working, delighting in the fact that we were finished, but admonishing Edward for making me work, to which Cullen replied he was just testing how good I was. Mr. Banner didn’t seem to find it any funnier than I did, reminding my supposed lab partner that  if he wanted us to work alone, he wouldn’t have assigned partners. Cullen sulked some more, this time sending a glare my way every so often. 

 

    I had honestly not felt so offended in my life, and the looks resolved it for me. I’d ask Mr. Banner to switch lab partners with Jessica, assuming she and her partner were amiable to the idea. If that didn’t work, I was switching class periods. I’d take bio earlier in the day, and one of my other classes later on, but I would not spend the rest of this year next to someone who was possibly contemplating my horrific, gory murder. 

 

    Finally, the bell dismissed the class, and I walked with determination to Mr. Banner, who brought Jessica and her lab partner, Angela, up to the front to discuss our options. He said he unfortunately couldn’t do a switch so late in the year, and didn’t think switching classes would work, since this was his only AP Bio class. I forged on, however. 

 

   “Mr. Banner, could we work in a group of three? I mean, I know I’m new and haven’t proved myself yet, but you saw I did today’s lab all on my own, but I don’t want to be in that situation all year. If Edward Cullen thinks he’s smart enough to monitor my work, he’d probably be better off working on his own.” It wasn’t my best work, certainly, but it did the trick. After hearing that Jessica and Angela had no problem with the plan, he sent us on our way, where we all headed to gym. 

 

    There, I bemoaned the fact that we were playing volleyball. I could make a passing attempt at most sports, enough to have passed the  _ one required year _ of phys-ed in Phoenix, but there would still be the rest of January, clear through May, and a week in June to get through, not to mention next year. Maybe I could find it inside me to play a sport if playing got me out of this class. With that in mind, I steadied myself to play volleyball, warming up with Angela, who was on the team, and listened to her sadly remark that the principal thought it better that no students receive special treatment for phys-ed unless they had a doctor’s excuse for it. “The Cullens and Hales all get out of it,” Jessica mumbled as she leaned into her stretch. “Mom thinks the Good Doctor wrote them out because they asked, but apparently they all have some kind of autoimmune disorder, which is why they’re all so pale. Dr. Cullen has it too, which is why he and the Hale twins are so pale and so blond.”

 

   I hummed my interest, but forced myself to focus on volleyball. To my relief, I didn’t fall or hit anyone with a ball the entirety of the class, but when the bell rang, I hung back to think while everyone else made a mad dash for the locker room. While it would explain the freakish closeness of the entire family, there was something off. Esme Cullen hadn’t flinched this morning, even though I’d very nearly run her over, and Alice Cullen had been able to hear what hadn’t been more than a whisper that no normal person would have been able to hear. Edward Cullen’s eyes changed colors, from my limited interaction with him, which I supposed could be brushed off by the autoimmune disorder.  I wondered what the remaining Cullens, and the Hales, had that was odd about them. 

 

   I made tentative plans with Jessica and Angela to go to the La Push reservation on Saturday afternoon for a bonfire and picnic, glad to be able to see some old friends, though goodness knew I hadn’t seen them in ages. I told Jess I might call some friends from there to join in, and she was happy to relay that to Mike, from Government, who was planning the whole thing, so he could up the food and beverage count. 

 

   “Tell him to bring trash bags. It’s rude of us to leave a mess and it’s their land, and it’s sacred to them. Tell Mike to bring trash bags,” I told Jessica firmly, who grinned at me and gave affirmation that she understood. I made my way to the truck, grumbling under the cold rain and glancing down at the map that Madge had given me to remind myself of the small alley to take to the main office building. I’d just fished my keys out of my bag when Alice Cullen popped up beside me. Her eyes, I noted, were still the same caramel color as they had been in class. 

 

   “This is Jasper,” she told me, gesturing at the boy behind her, who I hadn’t noticed before. He was even more leonine in person than in the photo, which was unnerving. It was very predatory. “I’m sorry Edward was so rude today; he has no manners at all, that boy.” Alice rambled on, clearly nervous about how I was sizing up Jasper. I focused my eyes back on her to let her know that I held the rest of her family in good esteem. 

 

    “I don’t blame you Alice, or anyone but Edward. But could you maybe let him know that acting like the new girl smells bad is just rude, not to mention the fact that I do know his mother, and would happily turn on the crocodile tears if he keeps it up. Is there a reason for it? Does he think that I’d be rude about the autoimmune thing? Because if he does, then-”

 

    Alice cut me off. “It’s not that. Edward is something of a loner, and prides himself on reading body language to figure out what people are like, but he couldn’t get a good read on you, which is why he was upset. He can be somewhat sweet when he’s not...” Alice trailed off, uncertain how to describe Edward’s behavioral patterns. 

 

    “When he’s not imagining draining the lovely Miss Swan dry, I assume,” Jasper intoned from behind Alice, drawing a Look from her.  It was definitely strange, because it should have been a joke, not a Thing, but the way Alice turned to look at Jasper made it something else. 

 

    I laughed it off, though now I was certain there was a mystery here. “I thought the same thing to myself in Biology today. He’s very intimidating when he glares at people.”   Jasper laughed too, and after a moment’s hesitation, Alice joined in too, a bell-like laugh that made other students turn their heads. 

 

  “We should hang out on Saturday, Bella, and try to tackle the first essay for Wuthering Heights,” Alice said suddenly. 

 

I grimaced. Alice seemed fun, but I was excited to be in La Push again. “I’m sorry, I already have plans with Jessica and some others for Saturday, but I’m free Friday night, and all day Sunday. We can work on other assignments too.” I smiled hopefully at her, and she nodded. 

 

“Sunday will work best; Carlisle has the day off, and Esme has a new recipe she wants to try out!” Alice seemed excited. “Just be careful on Saturday, Bella. Some of Mike Newton’s friends can get a little rowdy. He hangs out with a lot of college kids from a branch of UW. A lot of frat boys,” she said by way of explanation. 

 

I smiled, hoping to look grateful for her concern. “I’ll be fine Alice, my dad is Chief of Police, remember. And anyway,” I added thoughtfully, “I know a lot of the people from La Push, where we’re hanging out. Trust me, nothing bad will happen.” 

 

Alice nodded, seemingly mollified by what I said, but I had a new question. How had Alice known Mike was going to be with us? 

 

It was the question on my mind as I walked briskly up to the office doors, eager to be inside and finished with my paperwork for my first day. Inside, however, an angry Edward Cullen was trying to haggle Madge into switching  _ his  _ AP Bio class. 

 

“I’m sorry, Edward, but that’s the only slot for AP Bio, and dropping out so late in the year won’t look good on college apps.” I thought Madge was remaining remarkably calm for a woman who was being loomed over. 

 

“Hey douchecanoe,” I sniped, angry on Madge’s behalf, “don’t worry about changing classes. I already talked to Mr. Banner, and he’s letting me work with Jessica and Angela. Go and pout somewhere you aren’t terrifying the underpaid administrative official.” 

 

He glowered at me for a long moment before he stalked out the door, letting it slam shut behind him. Huffing, I stepped up to the desk, producing my sheeting of signatures for Madge to stamp and file away. “You know,” she said, smiling, “I should scold you for your language.”  I nodded, and thanked Madge for her help. Whatever was going on with Edward Cullen, his family was keeping the secret for him, or at least helping him keep it. I bought the autoimmune thing, especially considering that Carlisle Cullen was a doctor, and it would explain the cold skin, their pallor, and Edward’s seemingly changing eyes. But Edward’s attitude was only barely in keeping with that narrative, not to mention Alice’s reaction to Jasper’s joke earlier. 

 

The Cullens were hiding something, I could tell. I was just going to have to figure it out, but I knew Charlie, who adored the Cullens, wouldn’t say anything bad about them. I was going to have to go to someone who knew everyone’s business, which came in handy, since I would be in La Push in three days anyway. If anyone knew what the hell the Cullens’ deal was, it was Billy Black. 


	4. Sea Legs and Campfire Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bella's still uncertain as to whether or not Edward Cullen is out to kill her. None of the things she hears in La Push ease her mind at all, but at least she's found a sport where falling doesn't leave bruises.

The next few days passed mostly the same way, to school, back again, though with each passing day, I grew more and more interested in the mystery the Cullens, particularly Edward, presented. Alice kept a close watch on me, seemingly nervous. She’d apologized again, on Thursday, for Edward’s behavior on Wednesday. Alice had also said Edward had had the hardest time dealing with their parents’ untimely death from a drug overdose, and to please try not to judge him too harshly. 

“I know you’ll never be more than casual acquaintances, Bella, but please give him a small chance to be nice,” she’d said. I saw my way to learning the secrets they were harboring there. Edward, apparently, could be somewhat friendly after a while. If I stuck it out, played nice, was understanding about whatever his excuse was for that first day, I could find out. Of course, I was still getting Billy’s perspective. If Edward Cullen was a serial killer and his family covered for him, then no way. I was keeping my mouth shut and staying away. But that was about as bad as I could imagine it being. 

On the day of the beach trip, I went into Newton’s Outdoors to pick up a few things that the others might not have thought of, such as firewood and safe-use ignitors. Though they were typically used for fireplaces, many campers, and outdoor supply stores, had found that they were safer than lighting a camp fire with kerosene or loose paper. On the way out, the Cullen family, well Alice and the big one, Emmett, were walking toward the door. I smiled and waved, trying not to drop my bag. Jessica had loaned me a wetsuit, which I’d put on under loose sweats and a hoodie. 

Emmett ruffled my hair, which didn’t hurt nearly as much as it looked like it could. “Bella, hey,” he smiled at me and turned to his sister and laughed. “Bella looks like she’s gonna go camping, Alice, can you believe that?”

Alice gave a tinkling laugh and swatted Emmett in the side. “I think Bella told me it would be for the trip to La Push right, Bella?”

I nodded at her, and told her, “I just had to get a few things to get before I headed down, things that no one else will have thought of. What are you guys doing here anyway?” I asked, glancing curiously at the pair. While Emmett had the general air of someone who spent a lot of time outdoors, none of the others seemed the camping type. 

“Well, when it’s sunny out, the whole family likes to head out and camp in the nice weather. I’m sure you’ve heard about it, likely from jealous student who wish they could do the same.” Alice smiled at me, white teeth shining in the daylight. 

“That’s wonderful that you guys can afford to do that. Not a lot of students can take that time off of school, so I’m sure you guys are ahead?” 

Emmett grumbled something and laughed. “Do you think maybe you can help me with calculus Bella? I know you’re in Trig and my part in the camping trips have been threatened if I don’t start to do better.” 

I shrugged. “Maybe you’d be better off asking someone else, Emmett. I’m alright with math doing it myself but I have a hard time explaining things to other people. Maybe one of your siblings knows? I know the trig teacher was singing Rosalie’s praises, maybe you should ask her.” 

He blinked, staring at me as though he’d never met anyone who didn’t want to hang out with him alone. “Rose wants me to learn on my own,”he grumbled. 

“Are you asking for her help, or asking her to do the work for you? There’s a difference, Emmett, and she probably wants you to figure that part out too.” I started to edge away as I said it. I was going to be late meeting everyone at the beach if I didn’t leave soon. As entertaining as the Cullens could be, especially Emmett, I had already made plans. “Anyway, I’d better get going or they’re gonna start without me. But, hey, maybe we can hang out some other time? Bring Rosalie and Jasper, and maybe leave Dr. Jekel at home.” As I walked away I heard Emmett choke as the reference hit him. I clambered into Bartholomew, tossing my bags on the seat beside me, huffing from the exertion as he rumbled to life. I pulled out of the parking lot, expecting to see no one, but there stood Edward Cullen, Rosalie and Jasper, angling towards Emmett and Alice, glaring at me again. 

I decided that stopping and giving him a lesson on manners would definitely make me late. As much as I thought it might amuse my friends to hear about me lecturing Edward Cullen, of all people, punctuality was more important right now. I could, after all, berate him for this shit in biology on Monday. 

The drive to La Push was familiar enough that I barely had to pay attention to where I was going. I could see Mike’s jeep parked next to Jessica’s Honda, and pulled up near them, shucking my hoodie and sweats after I hopped out of Bartholomew. Jessica saw me and waved me down to them with the black trash bag in her hand. I raised a hand in greeting before I snagged my bags and headed down. Mike and one of the other guys, Tyler maybe, we arguing over the best place for the fire to sit. I caught his attention and tossed the starter to him, warning him to dig a trench around the stone circle. 

Jessica was grinning when I finally made my way to her, mischief in her honey colored eyes. “So, Bella,” she began, clearly eager to start a lien of conversation that would be embarassing for me, “what did Alice Cullen want yesterday?”

“She wanted to apologize for her asshole brother, actually. But it got weird. That guy she was with, Jasper? He made a joke about Edward wanting to drain me dry. And like, it shouldn’t have been a Thing, right? He made an off-color joke about his girlfriend’s dickhead brother, but then she gave him this Look, Jessica.”

She hummed, eyes flicking over my shoulder as more of our friends showed up. “What do you mean, a Look?”

“A Look, Jessica, that said “do not make jokes about that you’ll give us away!” and that’s what was weird, right? Like it was a creepy joke, but it wasn’t weird until Alice made it weird, and then Alice and Emmett showed up when I was picking some things up at Newton’s.”

“The Cullens camp whenever it gets sunny out, something to do with their autoimmune disorder, I think,” Mike said as he joined us near the surfing gear. 

Jessica nodded at Mike’s input, and then said, “Well maybe the joke just meant he wants to drain you of your immune system Bella.”

 

Feeling a little bit dramatic over the whole thing, and hoping some of the Rez kids would show up so I could find Billy, I added, “Maybe he meant my youthful blood, Jessica. Edward was seriously creeping me out with the looks he was giving me; I’m a little concerned that their camping trips are where they go to hide the bodies of Edward’s victims.”

“This is a pretty small town, with laws and treaties, none of the Cullens would dare to kill a human,” a new voice added from behind us. We all turned to see who it was, and sure enough one of the kids from the Rez was standing there, although “kid” was probably the wrong word. He was definitely older than us, and could probably bench press Jess, Lauren, Angela, and me all at once without breaking a sweat. 

It took me a minute to recognize him, because holy hell had he grown up since I was last here, but it did come to me. “Sam, right?” He nodded at me. “Well, Sam, you are not helping me believe that the Cullens aren’t hiding anything. Laws and treaties, really?” 

He looked at me, smiled, and said, “A Cullen predecessor came through here in the 1930s, the chief of the tribe negotiated a treaty with them that they couldn’t hunt on tribal lands.” This all would have sounded very, very convincing, except Sam had said “kill a human.”

“Sam,” I told him, “you used the word human when you first explained about the treaty.” He laughed, eyes sparkling again, and another one of the Rez kids, and this one still looked like a kid, walked up rolling his eyes. 

“Stop scaring the white girl, Sam, she didn’t do anything to you,” he said, and as he got closer, I recognized him as Jacob, Billy’s son. “He’s just messing with you, Bella, trying to scare you off with old tribal stories.” 

“I like stories, Jacob. I wasn’t scared, I was intrigued; Edward Cullen and I had an interaction at school earlier in the week, and I’m trying to convince myself he won’t murder me, but no one’s helping me with that.” 

“Jacob is right, they’re just old stories, there’s no truth to them. They may not even be the same Cullen family.” 

Jacob nodded, but then grinned at me. “But if you want, Bella, I can tell you all the stories later, after you guys are done surfing.” 

I grinned at the invitation. Charlie and I were a sceptical pea pod, so nothing Jacob had to say would be frightening. Enlightening, maybe, but he couldn’t scare me. Surfing, on the other hand, could. 

I had explained, more than once, that not only had I lived in the southwest US, I’d lived in the decidedly landlocked southwest US, where surfing opportunities were slim to none. Mike agreed to take me out on his board for a while, to give me a little taste of being on a board. Thankfully, he kept any antics to a minimum with me on board, but he knew what he was doing, and I was eventually placed on a borrowed board of my own.

I was so awful, it was surprising a shark didn’t pop up just to put me out of my misery. I would paddle out, and then the moment I tried to do anything like move or stand, I would topple over into the water. Eventually, even though this was the most fun I’d ever had falling over, I paddled back to land to nurse my ego by the fire. 

Jacob was waiting for me with a hot dog in one hand, a water bottle in the other, and handed them to me as I plopped down next to him. “Sam asked me not to tell you the stories. Not because they’ll scare you,” he explained at my outraged expression, “but because it’s kind of frowned upon to tell outsiders our stories without an elder’s permission. I’ll ask my dad and tell you a different time, how about that?” 

I nodded, wondering all the while if google would have any information if I dug deep enough. “Tell me what you’ve been up to since the last time I was here, then,” I told him, taking a bite of the dog in my hand. 

“I learned how to fix cars and bikes. I’m like a mechanic, but people don’t feel guilty for paying me less than any of the actually certified places. I’m the one who made sure your old hunk of metal runs right.”

I held up my hand for a high five. “Sweet job, tho. Bartholomew runs great, barely even any misses in the shifts, starts right up. He’s a dream, seriously.”

Jacob lit up, eyes glinting from the firelight. “You named your truck Bartholomew? That is, quite possibly, the best thing I have ever heard. I love the name. Wanna take a ride real quick, say hi to the old man before you head back to Charlie’s?” 

“Let me tell Jess that I’m leaving, but sure.” I walked over and tapped Jess on the shoulder where she was talking to Angela. “Hey, I’m headed out, gonna stop up on the Rez and see a couple of my dad’s friends, let them exclaim over how grown up I am.” 

She grinned at me, nodded, “I’ll see you at school on Monday, Bella. Hopefully you won’t become Edward Cullen’s next meal before then.” We all laughed, Angela waved goodbye, I promised Jess I’d have her wetsuit at school on Monday, and I met Jacob up by the truck. 

We drove mostly in silence, with Jacob speaking mostly to direct me from the more touristy beach area up to the Rez where he lived with his dad. “How is Billy? Charlie didn’t say when we were talking earlier.” 

Jacob shrugged. “He’s alright; I mean, his diabetes is getting kind of bad because he won’t listen to his doctors, so I’m probably gonna have to get Sue - you remember Sue, right? Clearwater, she’s Leah’s mom - on his case. I think he just has a hard time understanding that there’s any reason for him to care about his health. In his mind, I’m almost 16, as good as a man ready to strike out on my own, my sisters are both moved out and doing their own thing, haven’t really been back since mom died. I just wish he’d understand though. I need him to take care of himself for himself, not for me.” 

“I’ll tell Charlie to lay off the bad stuff when he’s down here. I’m sure it’ll help, too, if Sue reads him the riot act,” I told Jacob as I eased into his driveway. When we walked up to the porch, Jacob sighed when he saw Billy open the door for us. 

“I didn’t know that you were bringing a friend by, Jacob.” There was a lecture in the one sentence. 

“Hey Billy, dad says hi! How have you been? I know it’s been ages, but surely you manage to recognize me!” I leaned down a little to hug Billy before pulling back to smile at him. 

Billy smiled, “Hi Bella. I heard from Charlie you were back in town, but I didn’t think you’d be by so soon. Jacob has homework to do, so I’m sorry, but he can’t hang out.” Jacob grumbled at the strict laying down of parental law, but waved goodbye and shuffled inside. 

I waved bye to Billy and turned to go, but stopped on the step and said, “Billy, what do you know about the Cullens?” 

He looked at me, the knowledge of something dark and mysterious in his dark eyes that matched Jacob’s, and said, “They are Cold Ones, and dangerous. Stay away from them, Bella.”  
Nothing, not Edward’s black eyed stare, Jasper’s off color joke, Alice’s strange looks to Jasper, the excellent hearing, not Sam’s strange comment about killing humans, alarmed me as much as what Billy had just said. “They have an autoimmune disorder,” I tried to explain away the suddenly new cold feeling in my stomach, “that’s why they’re so cold.” 

Billy studied me for a moment, and then, when I thought he would just leave me standing outside, said, “ They want you to think it’s just a simple medical problem. I mean it Bella. Charlie thinks they’re good people, but being their friend is a path to a lot of hurt, a lot of uncertainty. Goodnight.” Without another word, he wheeled himself back around and into his house, leaving me on the steps. 

On the trip home, I had to force my focus onto the road ahead, and the simple mechanics of driving. By refusing to let the cold tendrils of panic to overtake me, I made it home safely, powering my new laptop up for the first time to search a term that had nothing to do with school at all. 

Cold One.


	5. Vampires Are Melodramatic (And So Is Bella Swan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to have that conversation about how the Cullens Are Possibly Serial Killers

Google was, of course, supremely unhelpful at first. It took 5 pages of digging through links that were useless or click bait to find the right one, and even then, it wasn’t totally clear where Cold Ones came from, just that they were, as it turned out, vampires. Which would explain oh so very much. Esme Cullen didn’t flinch even though I came very close to running her over, Alice hearing me mutter very quietly to myself and then at a table across a crowded and noisy cafeteria. Jasper’s joke wasn’t really a joke, he was being serious, Edward wanted to drink my blood, and Alice was shutting him up so that I wouldn’t get suspicious. They camped on sunny days because vampire couldn’t be out in the sun, especially not in public. 

 

This was, to put it lightly, terrifying. Did I confront Alice over this? Out of all of them, I knew her and Emmett best, but Emmett was large and burly and seemed more like a bull in his pen than in control. Alice seemed delicate and restrained and, now that I thought about it, able to control herself, and possibly the others. I’d talk to her on - I was supposed to be at the Cullens’ house tomorrow to work on an English paper. Fuck. 

 

At that exact moment, a notification popped up on facebook. I had, at that moment, a friend request from Alice Cullen. I hit accept, knowing there was no way to decline or ignore it without arousing every single sense and suspicion a vampire might have. Almost immediately, a message came through. 

 

Message from Alice Cullen, 10:49pm:

_ Hi Bella! Just wanted to make sure we were still on for tomorrow to work on the paper! _

 

Message to Alice Cullen, 10:51pm:

_ Sure Alice, what time? And my place or yours? _

 

Message from Alice Cullen, 10:52pm:

_ I think we can meet at your house, at about 1? Esme is sending me with some cookies  _

_ She just found a recipe for.  _

 

Message to Alice Cullen, 10:54pm:

_ That sounds great, Alice, see you tomorrow! Goodnight! _

 

For a moment, I was relieved. At my house, we were on my turf, and my police chief father would be here. I figured that if they were in school, or in a hospital full of people bleeding, they had some sort of feeding schedule they kept up in order to stand it. I stood up and walked down to tell Charlie about tomorrow, and also to pass on Jacob’s message about Billy’s health. 

 

“Dad, Alice Cullen is coming over tomorrow about one to work on an English paper with me.” 

Charlie hummed his agreement, still primarily focused on whatever team was playing tonight. “Anything else, Bells? You have fun down at the beach today?”

 

I laughed. “Yes, I had fun, and yes there’s something else I need to talk to you about.” I made sure to sound more serious as I finished my sentence, effectively pulling his attention from the tv and onto me. 

 

“What is it Bells?” He was worried for me, I could tell, and as awkward as this was going to be, no doubt, I didn’t want him to panic. 

 

“I talked to Jacob today. He said that Billy hasn’t been following his doctor’s orders on how to eat in order to better manage his diabetes. I told him I’d ask you to make sure you were helping out by not taking junk food on your fishing trips.” Charlie opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off, “I’m not asking you guys to snack on lettuce, just, I’ll ask Jacob what stuff is good for Billy, and then pass it to you. Please, Jacob is really concerned about his dad.”

 

Charlie huffed, a sadness and fondness in his eyes that I wasn’t used to seeing. “Alright, get the stuff from Jake and then let me know. I’ll make sure Billy starts to eat right.”

 

I thanked him and went back up to my room, intending to finish some of my homework before I went to bed, but something at my window caught me by surprise. Whatever it was moved too quickly for me to be sure if it was the tree just outside, or my imagination, but I was sure it was Edward Cullen. Which, he was pretty creepy, as far as teenage boys went, but he probably wasn’t so creepy and weird he would climb the siding of a two story house to stare into my bedroom. 

 

I decided to shake it off, sitting down to my desk to conquer the 10 calculus problems we’d been set when facebook chimed again. I cautiously peeked at it, hoping it wasn’t from Alice, so of course it was. 

 

Message from: Alice Cullen 11:03pm

_ Just wanted to tell you that Rose is letting us borrow her old Wuthering Heights essay too. We can’t copy it, but we can, apparently, use it for inspiration. Good night, Bella! _

 

I opted not to respond, finding calc more important than whatever conversation Alice could draw me into. It was hard, and I spent a lot of time swearing at my textbook, my calculator, and the world in general, but I did finally get appropriate, maybe even correct, answers to all of the problems.  I double checked my calendar, finding a discussion question from government we had to answer on the Federalist Papers. I cracked that out within ten minutes, answered the few translations for Spanish, and then stared at the wall in the kind of boredom that settles in only after one has been too busy for anything but nonstop work. 

 

With all homework but my English paper done, I thought I’d take a shower and then go to bed, but after the shower, I felt hungry again. I crept to the kitchen carefully, hearing Charlie snore down the hallway and not wanting to wake him.  I assembled a sandwich, and ate it over the sink, mulling over what I’d figured out. 

Cold Ones were vampires. The Cullens were Cold Ones, at least according to Billy. Everything I’d read had alluded to pale skin, bags under the eyes, and red eyes, because they drank human blood. The red eyes were the only things I hadn’t associated with any of the Cullens, but I wondered if they hadn’t been wearing contacts to hide the red eyes. Where did they hunt? Sam had said they wouldn’t dare to do so here, and I didn’t think there had been any major missing persons reports in the time since they’d moved to Forks, but vampires were immortal from the moment they transformed. It stood to reason, in my mind, that if they’d been around long enough, they could simply have learned to hide what they were doing. Human serial killers did it all the time, after all, preying on the homeless, the drug addicts, the prostitutes; people who wouldn’t be missed, people the authorities wouldn’t look for very hard. 

 

I rinsed my plate, left it in the sink, and stood there in the mostly dark kitchen, thinking over everything, wheels in my head turning over and over and over. I would have to confront Alice tomorrow. It was incredibly alarming, possibly being friends with someone who killed people to eat. 

 

I slept fitfully that night. Whenever I dreamt, I dreamt of running panicked through the woods, followed by something that was running to fast to be anything other than a blur, flashes of color in the otherwise green surroundings. Eventually I fell down, sprawled in the dirt, and suddenly all of the Cullens were standing over me, eyes red. 

 

I woke with a start, glancing at the clock to find that it was, in fact, after 9. I sat up, rubbing the gunk from my eyes. I dressed casually, digging out an old Buffy tshirt for the sake of irony, and went down to breakfast, expecting to find Charlie, but he was nowhere in sight. He had, however, left a note out. 

 

Bells,

I know I said I’d let Jake give you a list for me about Billy’s diet, but I figured he needed a come-to-Jesus meeting sooner rather than later.  I’ll probably stay down here all day, help Billy sort through the junk in his house and buy him more groceries, and be prepared to do the same when I get home. I’m gonna follow this diet with Billy so he doesn’t feel so alone. 

See you when I get home,

Dad

 

I smiled at the note, and opted for cereal while I tried to sketch out a rough plan for my essay. After I ate, I cleaned up a little bit, wanting to make it clear there’d been a struggle if Alice decided to brutally murder me. It didn’t take long to clean up; Charlie was a neat person, and it wasn’t like I had a habit of leaving a mess. 

 

I basically paced around and went through the many different ways to bring up the conversation. “Hey, Alice, I know that you told me Jasper was just joking, but I think you’re all vampires, and I’m pretty sure he meant it,” seemed like getting off on the wrong foot. “Do you wear contacts so no one knows you feast on the innocent,” wasn’t much better. “So, you’re all vampires, what’s the like,” was too casual but probably the least offensive so far. It would have to do. 

 

By the time Alice got there, I had resolved that I’d just have to wing it. There was no solid way to bring up the “hey so you’re vampires” subject, no easy way to accuse someone of being an undead creature of the night, here to drain the life from the innocent. 

 

When Alice pulled up, not in the volvo I’d seen before, but in a  _ fucking Porsche  _ I nearly doubled over from the shock. Were they all so old they just had massive amounts of wealth that they had nothing to do with, were they like Scrooge Duck, just swimming around in piles of cash? Honestly, what the fuck did these people do when they weren’t pretending to be high school students, pull reverse Robin Hoods? 

 

By the time Alice rang the bell, I was so flummoxed over the Porsche sitting in my driveway that I’d nearly forgotten to ask about them being demons of the night. Alice looked less cheerful than usual when I opened the door, and that’s when I saw my segue into the whole vampire thing. 

 

“So can you come in on your own, or do I have to specifically invite you?” I asked, leveling my eyes at her own, which were no longer the golden they’d been on Saturday. They were black, like Edward’s had been. 

 

She faltered for a moment, but the smile reappeared, and she said, “That’s a myth; we don’t need to be invited in to come in, but it’s good manners just the same.” I sighed and stepped back from the door, sweeping my arm inward so she’d enter. When she did, it was with the same preternatural grace I’d come to expect from her, but now I knew why she moved so smoothly. “You must have questions,” she said as she walked with deliberate slowness into the kitchen, where my book and laptop sat. 

 

“Everything I found said you guys should have red eyes. Why don’t you?” It was as close to accusing her and her family of being murderers without acting saying it. 

 

“We don’t feed from humans. It’s a little joke, actually, that we’re vegetarians. We hunt animals, actually, which is why our eyes aren’t red. When we go campings, it’s like a long term hunting excursion for us.” 

 

“Ok. That, uh, that clears up  a lot of my concerns, actually. Uhm, but, about the car, Alice. How the fuck?” 

 

“Some of us are quite old, Bella. We’ve had time to accumulate quite a bit of wealth, and well. It’s a pretty, pretty car, I just couldn’t resist.” She smiled with her dimples in full force, which nearly made me forgive the whole ostentatious showing. 

 

“How’d you know what I was going to ask about? You knew, didn’t you, before I even said anything; how?” 

 

“Some of us have gifts, Bella. I’m a psychic, I can see the future; it was a bet at the house, actually. I could tell you’d figured it out, as soon as you made the decision to keep looking into us, I knew you would figure it out. That’s the funny thing of it, thought. I hadn’t known you were going to bring it up; it changed every time you thought of a new way to bring it up, so we were split on whether or not you would say anything. Actually, now that you have, do you want to go to my house? Only Esme has been raving about you since you met her in the parking lot.” 

 

I blinked at her. “Only if you promise to explain how you knew I would figure you out, but couldn’t tell that I had decided to bring it up at all.” 

 

She beamed at me and assembled my things in my bag before I’d even stood up. “It’s a deal, especially since it’s not actually that complicated. What are you doing?” She asked as I flipped Charlie’s note from before over. 

 

“Thought you were psychic, Alice; I’m leaving my dad a note so he knows where I’m at. As a human, there’s a worry that he’d have if I wasn’t here when he got back.” 

 

She laughed, the sound like bells. “I’ll explain in the car,” she said as I left the note back on the table. When we’d started down the road, she said, “It depends entirely on the decisions people make. So, you’d firmed up on the decision on Friday, before we even left school, to figure out what was going on with us. You had settled that future the second Jasper made that tasteless joke. That’s a solid decision. It’s hazier with uncertain choices; if you want to know if you’re going to get hit by a car, but you don’t know if you’re eating In-n-Out or Dominos for dinner, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. When you were flipping around on how to broach the subject, it meant I couldn’t tell whether or not you’d bring it up.”

 

“That doesn’t explain how you didn’t know about the note; I’d firmly decided to leave that note right after you packed my bag for me.”

 

“Split second decisions can’t be followed either. You spent too little time thinking it over, which means that you don’t show up on my radar.” 

 

“That’s actually interesting, that there are loopholes. What other gifts do you guys have?”

 

“Jasper is an empath; he can also manipulate feelings, so to speak. It’s more of a mind trick than him actually changing how you feel. He makes you think you’re happy, even if you’re actually not. Most of the time he only uses it to gauge the feelings of us, if we need to hunt, that sort of thing. Edward can read minds, except for yours. That’s what was throwing him off all that day; he couldn’t hear you and it was bothering him. It’s how he figures out what new people are like, reading their minds, and it’s seriously upset him that he can’t. I’m afraid he’s rather put you on a pedestal just because everyone thinks you’re nice and smart.”

 

“You can tell him I also seriously considered telling Charlie that he was a homicidal maniac and I was his next victim after a serious attempt to start a new life. I also considered that you guys were like, the beautiful version of the underground cults who kidnap people as teenagers and children. I was going to be Edward’s new wife, and we would all start the world afresh when we emerged, safe and unaffected, from our underground bunker in Iowa.”

 

Alice snorted. “Oh, trust me, he is hearing all about that. Iowa, though, really?”

 

“Easier to dig deep into the ground, you know.” I said that, somehow, with a straight face. She laughed, though, pulling into a long drive on the edge of a wooded area. 

 

“Relax please, Bella. Our house is out of the way so we can get some privacy. I’m not taking you to any secret bunker where you’ll be forced to marry Edward, terrifying though that concept is.” 

 

When we pulled up to the house, which was more modern than I’d thought to expect, Edward was standing on the porch, glowering. “I thought it would be more Victorian,” I admitted to Alice as she parked the car. 

 

“Esme is a lover of architecture, so she remodeled the old house to this lovely thing.” 

 

“It’s like if Frank Lloyd Wright was actually talented,” I praised as we walked up the steps. 

 

Edward glared at me. “Underground cult? Forced marriage? Serial killer? That’s really the best you can do?”

 

I pursed my lips at him. “I’m sure most people think something more along the lines of a comic book origin story, but I hope you understand that you looked at me like I was sawing your legs off sans anesthetic for roughly two hours. None of my assessments of you were going to be glowing reviews.” 

 

Emmett rambled onto the porch then, grinning widely. “Is Edward upset that you didn’t wanna let him, ah, devour you at first eye contact? Most of them do,” he added for my benefit. 

 

I grinned, “It take a lot to attract me to a man, Emmett; Edward needs to work on his first impressions. Possibly violent sociopath just doesn’t do it for me.” 

 

Alice decided to cut in at that point, and led me into the house and into the kitchen where Esme was preparing something with Dr. Cullen talking to her. “Bella!” she said, smiling at me when we walked in. “I’m so glad Edward’s stony disposition hasn’t chased you off entirely.”

 

“Jury’s actually still out on that one, Mrs. Cullen.” I smiled at her as Alice and I sat down and started to actually get to work.

 

“So this is the human who figured us out,” a new, feminine voice said from the back door. I looked up to see Rosalie standing there, looking irritated at my mere existence. 

 

“I’m not going to say anything. Who would believe me?” I mumbled before squinting at a passage in the book that made me want to vomit in a particularly obnoxious fashion. 

 

“You could get us chased out of town. Alice was supposed to explain. We have rules; humans can’t know about us, and Edward’s little temper tantrum at not being able to hear you is going to get us killed.” 

 

“Seriously? If I agree to, one day in the near future, become a vampire, does that get me off the hook for the rules?” I asked while rolling my eyes at Heathcliff yet again. 

 

“You don’t know what you’re getting into, Bella. Don’t damn yourself.” Edward spoke from the doorway. 

 

I finally pulled my attention away from Wuthering Heights. “It would appear as though I would be consigning myself to reading Bronte and Austen on repeat for the rest of eternity. I could deal with that, honestly. It would give me a chance to explore these books from a new angel each time. I’m saving your life here, Edward, you could try being thankful for that.” 

 

He snarled - actually, literally snarled - at me, before stalking away to a different room, where angsty piano music floated to us not long after. 

 

“Well,” Alice said primly, “that could have gone better.” 

 

 

 

 


End file.
